Lake Eyre feels like it should be close, because it’s in South Australia. It isn’t. From Adelaide you’re looking at roughly a day’s drive to get into the right region, and further again to reach the lake itself. Distances out here catch people out.

There are a few ways to approach it. You can drive the whole way, often with an overnight stop. You can combine driving with a scenic flight from places like William Creek. Or you can join a tour that handles the logistics, so you can sleep in the vehicle instead of worrying about fuel.

Things to plan around

• Fuel stops are far apart, so fill up whenever you can
• Allow more time than the map suggests
• Check road and weather conditions before you leave
• Book accommodation early in the busy months

Whichever way you go, build in a buffer. The trip is part of the experience, and rushing it is the quickest way to miss what makes the journey worthwhile.

People worry about snakes and spiders. In practice, the things that actually bother visitors are the sun, the flies and getting dehydrated. None of them are dramatic. They’re just constant.

Summer heat in this part of the country can be severe, with days well over 40 degrees not unusual. That’s one reason many travellers choose the cooler months. Wherever you go, drink water before you feel thirsty, because by then you’re already behind.

Simple ways to cope

• Drink steadily through the day, not all at once
• A fly net that fits over your hat is not glamorous but it works
• Light, loose, long-sleeved clothing keeps the sun and flies off
• Take it slowly in the middle of the day

The flies are worst when it’s warm and still, and they ease off towards evening. Laugh about it, because everyone does the Aussie salute within an hour. It’s part of the trip.

We get plenty of travellers in their sixties, seventies and beyond, and some of the most enthusiastic people I’ve guided have been well past retirement. The outback isn’t only for the young.

It does help to be realistic. The roads can be bumpy, getting in and out of a 4WD takes a bit of effort, and there’s some walking on uneven ground. None of it is extreme, but it’s worth thinking through honestly, especially around heat and any health conditions.

Questions to ask before you book

• How long are the driving days, and how often do we stop?
• How much walking is involved, and on what kind of ground?
• Can the itinerary be adjusted if someone needs to rest?
• What accommodation is provided, and is it accessible?

If you have a medical condition, talk to your doctor before booking, and tell the tour operator what you need. Good operators would much rather know in advance.

The short answer is yes, with some planning. Kids often love the outback more than adults expect. It’s big, strange and full of things they can’t see at home: salt that crunches, enormous skies, a pub with money stuck to the ceiling.

The challenges are practical. There are long days in the vehicle, hot afternoons, and not much to do when you’re tired. Check the minimum age with whoever you book. Some tours suit children better than others, and it’s worth asking rather than assuming.

Making it work for families

• Pack snacks, a few downloaded shows and something to draw with
• Give kids a job: spotting wildlife, navigating, taking photos
• Plan for breaks and don’t over-schedule
• Keep them hydrated and covered up in the sun

Ask about itinerary pacing before you book. A slower trip with shorter driving days will usually go better with younger children than a fast loop.

I run tours, so you’d expect me to say book one. I’ll try to be fair about it, because plenty of people self-drive out there and enjoy it. It really does depend on who you are and what you’ve got.

Self-driving makes sense if you have a capable 4WD, outback experience, the right recovery gear and flexible dates. You set the pace and you save money. But the outback doesn’t forgive mistakes. Distances are big, phone coverage is patchy, and a breakdown a long way from help is a serious problem.

Where a guided tour earns its keep

• Someone else deals with road conditions, permits and fuel
• You get local knowledge: stories, history, where to stop and why
• You can look out the window instead of watching the track
• If something goes wrong, there’s a plan

Where self-drive wins

• Total freedom with your time
• Often cheaper if you already own the vehicle and gear
• You can linger where you like

If you’ve never done remote driving before, a tour is the lower-risk way to find out whether you love it. Plenty of people do a tour first and self-drive on their second trip.

Every trip, someone turns up with a brand new pair of white sneakers and a very small bag. Every trip, someone else turns up with three suitcases. The sweet spot is in between, and it’s mostly about layers.

The outback swings hard. Mornings can be properly cold, especially in winter, and afternoons can be hot enough that you want to sit in the shade and not move. Sun is the constant. There’s very little cover out there, and the salt reflects light back up at you.

The list I’d actually follow

• Layers: a warm jacket or fleece, plus light long sleeves for the sun
• A wide-brimmed hat that stays on in the wind
• Sunglasses, because the salt is bright
• Sturdy closed shoes you don’t mind getting dusty
• Sunscreen and lip balm, more than you think you’ll need
• A refillable water bottle
• A camera or phone with plenty of storage, and a power bank
• Any medication you take, with a little spare

A small daypack beats a big bag for the stops. And leave room in your luggage, because most people come home with a few things they didn’t plan on buying.

I’ll say this up front: Dalhousie Springs is remote. It’s in Witjira National Park, up near the Northern Territory border, and it’s a long way past where most Lake Eyre trips turn around. But if your itinerary stretches that far, it’s one of the best things you’ll do all trip.

The springs are fed by the Great Artesian Basin, and the water comes up warm, somewhere around the high thirties Celsius. After a few days of dust and heat, floating in a warm pool surrounded by reeds and date palms, in the middle of one of the driest places on the continent, is a bit surreal. The largest pool is big enough that you can properly swim.

Before you go

• It’s a long, remote drive, so a 4WD and proper preparation are essential
• A park pass is needed for Witjira National Park
• The water is warm all year, so a swim feels best in cooler months
• Respect the springs: they’re culturally significant and ecologically fragile

Most people won’t make it this far north, and that’s part of the charm. If you do, it’s the kind of stop you’ll still be talking about years later.

People ask me all the time whether they should combine the Flinders Ranges with Lake Eyre. My honest answer is yes if you’ve got the days, and here’s why. The Flinders is where you get mountains, gorges, and wildlife like yellow-footed rock-wallabies. Lake Eyre is where you get scale and emptiness. Together they show you two completely different faces of outback South Australia.

Wilpena Pound is the centrepiece. It’s a huge natural basin ringed by quartzite ridges, and the Adnyamathanha people know it as Ikara, which is often translated as meeting place. From the right lookout, the shape makes sense: a great bowl of country surrounded by a wall of rock. The ranges themselves are very old, formed from sediments that are hundreds of millions of years old.

Planning it in

• Allow at least a full day and night at Wilpena itself
• The walk to Wangara Lookout is manageable for most people and gives a great view
• Spring and autumn are the most comfortable times to visit
• The drive from the Flinders up to Marree and Lake Eyre makes a natural route

If you’re tight on time, pick one. If you’ve got a week, doing both is one of the best ways I know to see what South Australia’s outback is really like.

The first time I stepped into a Coober Pedy dugout in January, I walked out of a 43 degree afternoon into a room that felt like a nice spring day. That’s the whole point. A lot of the town’s residents, roughly half by most accounts, live in homes dug straight into the hillsides, because above ground the summer heat is hard going.

Underground, the temperature stays fairly steady all year, somewhere in the low-to-mid twenties, without much need for air-conditioning. The rock is soft enough to dig with relatively simple equipment, and the opal miners who started the town had the tools and the skills already. Many early dugouts were just mining tunnels that people moved into.

What a dugout is like

• Cool in summer and mild in winter, with no need for heavy climate control
• Very quiet, and very dark if the lights go out
• Ventilation shafts bring in fresh air, since there are no windows in the main rooms
• Several underground motels and B&Bs let visitors sleep in one

If you’ve got a spare night on the way to or from Lake Eyre, sleeping in a dugout is a genuinely memorable stop. Pack a torch anyway. You’ll want it at 3am.

The Oodnadatta Track runs for roughly 620 kilometres of mostly unsealed road, and a big chunk of our Lake Eyre travel follows it. What surprises first-timers is that it’s not empty. It tracks the route of the old Ghan railway, and the leftovers are everywhere: collapsed stone sidings, rusting bridges, fettlers’ camps.

The stretch between Marree and William Creek has the stops I’d actually recommend. You pass the mound springs, where water from the Great Artesian Basin pushes up in the middle of a dry plain. You cross the gibber, those endless fields of polished stones, and you get a real sense of why early travellers dreaded this country.

Stops that earn the time

• Old Ghan railway ruins and sidings along the way
• The mound springs, a green surprise in a brown landscape
• Lookouts over the Lake Eyre South edge, depending on the route
• William Creek at the end of the day for a cold drink and a bed

Conditions change fast out here. After rain the track can close, and in summer it’s brutally hot, so check road reports before you leave. That’s one of the quiet advantages of going with a guide: someone else is watching the conditions.